


untitled (friends, lovers, soulmates, i don't know what to call you)

by DontTouchMySeaweedBrain



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Shadowhunter AU, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7328218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontTouchMySeaweedBrain/pseuds/DontTouchMySeaweedBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parabatai, Scott thinks, getting used to the word in relation to Stiles. A soul mate, brothers in arms who would kill and die for each other. It’s all true. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Stiles. But it feels so formal. It doesn’t quite fit. But neither does friend. Neither does brother.</p><p>Stiles’ arm finds it’s way around his shoulders. And that fits. Somehow, it always does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled (friends, lovers, soulmates, i don't know what to call you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my fic for the 2015 Sciles Bang. I could not have done this without my wonderful beta Lucy_Claire, who has some of her own amazing fics on here! All errors are mine!  
> So this is a Shadowhunters AU, though there are some inconsistencies. Basics: Shadowhunters are half human, half angel and they fight demons. Then there are Downworlders, who they are slowly gaining alliances with. Before Shadowhunters turn eighteen, they can form a 'Parabatai bond,' which connects them intimately for life. In the real verse, there is a parabatai mark, but I've chosen to implement it in the form of Scott's tattoo. They mark each other with runes that give them abilities, but only Shadowhunters can use them. Shadowhunters train in an Institute and when they're done, they go off to other Institutes around the world to train there. Okay, last thing, everyone is a Shadowhunter except Lydia, who is fae, and all the people who are werewolves in the show, excepting Jackson. That's everything, but let me know if there are any questions!

 

Scott knows that he shouldn’t feel nervous, knows that this is what he’s wanted for years, but all the same, there’s a feeling in his stomach that he can’t shake.

_What if it doesn’t work? What if Stiles changes his mind? What if the Silent Brothers decide that I’m not good enough?_

His hand goes to the back of his neck, and he can already feel it burning. So he shakes himself free of the doubt and the fear and restrings the bow.

Once it’s over, he and Stiles will be parabatai, and everything will be worth it. His hands don’t shake as the arrows fly, hitting their mark again. And again.

“Nervous, Scotty?” A familiar voice comes from behind him, and the tension in his shoulders dissolves. Stiles stepped up next to him, smiling. “Figured I’d find you here.”

“Just thought I’d get some practice in, since we’re going to be gone tomorrow.”

“Course you’d think of that, nerd.” Stiles grabbed the bow from his fingers, toying with the string. “And here I was glad to have a day off school.”

Scott bites his lip. “I am glad. I mean, not about —”

“I know, Scott.” All playfulness is gone from Stiles’ eyes. He understands. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Stiles grins, and the trademark giddiness that is all Stiles returns full force.

“The biggest.”

* * *

 

 

The ceremony is terrifying to say the least. He’ll never get used to the way the voices of the Silent Brothers pierce his soul, instead of talking, but if the legends are true, he’ll be able to do that with Stiles soon. He could probably get used to that.

 _Have you decided what you want yet?_ Brother Jean asks. 

“I was thinking two bands, right here.” His fingers come up to brush his left arm. He turns to Stiles. “One for each of us.”

“Sounds good.” Stiles grins. “But I want mine here.” He holds up his right hand, fingers dancing across his knuckles. “All the way around, so when I’m fighting, it’s both of us.”  

Scott can’t help but let out a laugh, and it echoes around the room.

Maybe it’s his imagination, but Brother Jean seems to smile.

When it’s over, after all the screaming and the circles, Scott has two black bands etched forever around his left arm. He laughs when he sees Stiles, looking like a ring around his middle finger. Stiles catches his eye, and puts it up. Scott just laughs harder.

* * *

Stiles is in Rune Studies when he feels it for the first time. It’s just this subtle burning across his knuckles, right where the mark is etched in black.

It doesn’t hurt, not until he thinks about it, and then all of a sudden, the answer jumps into his head, like flipping on a switch, and he runs.

He’s sprinting to the Med-Bay even though Scott’s supposed to be in Weapons Training, and that’s not something he would skip, especially not while his Dad’s here. But it’s an instinct that his mind knows better than to protest.

“Scott! Scott!” A scream rips itself from his throat, his knuckles are on _fire_ , Oh God, if this is happening to him then what is happening to Scott?

He turns a corner, and the feeling of Scott’s presence nearby fills his senses. “Scott. Hey, hey, look at me, what’s wrong?” Stiles asks, but Scott can’t answer.

His breathing trips and stutters the way his voice does when he talks to his father, and Stiles swears that he can hear Scott’s heart beating faster and faster.

His fingers seem to take forever as they find their way down to his pocket where an inhaler rests, as it always does.

“Scott. Here, breathe, man. You can do it. Hey, I got you. I got you.”

Somehow, his hand has made it’s way to Scott’s, right over the inhaler. Slowly, the burning in his hand disappears, Scott’s breathing evening out, and Stiles’ heart rate with it.

“Stiles?” Scott focuses on him, curling his fingers around the inhaler.

“Hey. You good?” Stiles should probably let go of his hand, but his own lungs still hurt from running, and his mark still hurt, so that meant that he didn’t need to let go anytime soon.

“Ask me in a minute. What happened?” Scott looks up at Rafael McCall, who is standing there, rubbing nervously at the handle of his seraph blade.

“Yeah, what happened?” Stiles glares at Rafael, who looks barely concerned that his son just suffered an attack that could have literally killed him. 

“We were sparring. I guess he had some sort of panic attack. I brought him here.” Rafael quips, irritated.

“Asthma attack,” Stiles stresses. “It was an asthma attack. And you’ve been in training for like ten minutes, how the hell did you give him an asthma attack in ten minutes?” Stiles asks, enraged, hands tightening.

Scott winces as he answers, “We skipped lunch. But it’s fine, Stiles. I’m learning a lot about the seraph blades.”

“The seraph blade isn’t even his weapon!” Stiles continues, directing his fury at Rafael. “You made him skip lunch and train hard enough to give him an asthma attack with a weapon that he doesn’t even use? What is wrong with you?” Stiles’ hand moves to cover Scott’s arm protectively, adding a soothing touch right over the mark.

“He needs to be ready to use any kind of weapon that might get thrown to him,” says Rafael bluntly. “What if he loses his blades or his bow, and the only thing someone can throw to him is one of these? He needs to know how to use any or all of them or he’s going to get someone killed.”

Stiles has never felt so offended in his life, and it wasn’t even about him. “Not only is that fucking ridiculous, Scott would never lose his blades _and_ his arrows,” he spits, quickly adding. “You live in Idris, you help set the standards. It’s protocol to keep like twelve additional weapons on you whenever you leave the Institute. Scott keeps at least fifteen. And then there’s me, who is also stacked with backups.”

Rafael opens his mouth to object but Stiles cuts him off, continuing, “And you know what? Scott can fight with a seraph blade. He almost beat Danny with them the other night, and the seraph blade is Danny’s second choice. You can’t starve him, give him a weapon that isn’t his, make him work for an hour and tell him to beat a more experienced adult twice his size. Jeez, he’s your kid first.” Stiles crouches down, half in the stretcher by now, glaring. He hates Rafael, hates the way Scott feels when he’s around him, hates every part of this. 

Rafael doesn’t even look guilty. At least he’ll be gone soon. 

* * *

“You know that if you fuck up even the slightest, it’s not stamina, it’s strength, right, Scotty?” Stiles deadpans as Scott draws on his forearm.

“Please, like you could do it any better?” Scott returned, eyes scrunching as he concentrated, “Besides, it’s not like you need either tonight. We’re only on patrol.”

“Ah, but what if I told you that this stamina rune was for Lydia Martin?” Stiles teases.

“I wouldn’t believe you. Done!” Scott announces. “And you wouldn’t ditch me during our grueling work of watching security cameras and emails, would you?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

* * *

 

“You love me. Let’s get going, I wanna see Allison before we go on shift.”

 

They have their schedule down to a ‘T’ by now. Stiles takes first shift while Scott actually does his homework. Scott takes second shift while Stiles rambles about whatever impossible training technique Gerard has him doing now. Then it’s Stiles’ shift and Scott’s half-asleep, and even worse, half in his lap.

Sometimes they order Chinese and watch _Psych_ and others they scarf down Kraft Mac and Cheese and coffee. Tonight is Lunchables and diet coke from Melissa’s fridge.

They’re halfway through Scott’s shift when alarms start going off. There’s a black phone in the corner, a handset that neither of them have ever had to answer. Stiles has never even seen it ring.

“Answer it, dumbass,” he says, bringing his fingers to his mouth to bite his nails.

“Hello? Yes, this is the—what? Okay, okay. We’re coming. It’s okay. We’ll be there soon.” Scott looks up, and his eyes give away what his voice doesn’t — he’s terrified. 

Scott lets thee phone clatter back in the cradle. Clumsy fingers fumble for the alarm. “Let’s go. We have to go, now. There’s a group of Eidolons at that church on McClintock. Holy shit. We gotta go.” 

“Scotty, hold on, just wait a sec,” Stiles scrambles, pressing a hand on Scott’s chest. “It’s just us here, everyone’s out on that Downworlder meeting. In Idris.”

“Doesn’t matter. We have to go.” Scott slams down on the button, pushing past Stiles in a half jog towards the weapons room. “We can send Lydia through a portal, but we have to leave now.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Stiles catches up, pulling out his phone and texting Lydia hurriedly:

**911 go to idris tell chris we need them**

**_what the fuck stiles_ **

**shapeshifters at gethsemane we don’t have time to wait please**

**_ok im going_ **

**thank you**

**_you owe me_ **

Scott slips into his harness, a pre-loaded quiver with a twin set of blades that’s supposed to go against one of those fancy dri-fit Nike shirts with a little Shadowhunter flair that’s supposed to be impervious but really lets up with a slash that has enough power behind it. But it looks fine with his cotton Deadpool tank top, even showing off their parabatai bond. Allison, Danny, and Jackson slip in behind them, pulling at weapons and sliding them wherever’s convenient. Jackson’s seraph blade, Raphael, hangs loosely at his belt, where Danny keep his identical swords sheathed on his back. Allison dons a harness similar to Scott’s, Chinese ring daggers replacing the blades Scott is familiar with.

        “Okay, we made it in two minutes, can we let up on the drills now?” Danny groans, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. Allison’s fingers trip over her bow, ever always in her hand.

        “This has to be a false alarm,” Jackson quipped, holding his stele carefully between two fingers, flipping it like a pen.

        “I wish,” Scott says spinning around for a gear check. “Three minutes response time left. Church on McClintock. Strength, Speed, Stamina, Invulnerability, Sight. It’s shape-shifters and we need to see the civilians. Danny grab a back up, I know you hate it, but it looks like there’s a lot and I need you to watch your grip. You too, Jackson, Danny or Stiles can keep it until you need it for balance.  Ali, you might need to watch your right because of that blister, but as long as you stick with the runed arrows you’ll be good. Stiles…” Scott’s unwavering gaze panned over him, and he faintly registered the hidden panic behind the leader’s persona.

 “I’ll get Jackson’s sword.” He said softly, gripping Scott’s shoulder for a second too long. “C’mon, people, we’re wasting time!” He broke into a run, silently thanking the Angel that he hadn’t bothered to change into the uncomfortable leggings they were supposed to wear on mission. Maybe basketball shorts offered less protection, but at least he could move. His fingers fumbled for _Gabriel_ on the way out, but slipped the spare into a sheath at his side.

 “Okay, guys,” he hears Scott in a not-quite-yell as they climb into the first car they get to, which just happens to be Stiles’ favorite bright blue Jeep. “Just think of this like a drill sequence. Objective —“

 “Kick demon ass.” Stiles shifts the car into gear, checking back to see Allison squished in the center of Jackson and Danny.

 “It’s not as simple as that,” Scott says, pressing a stele into Stiles’ bicep.

 _I need to drive_ , Stiles thinks, though holding his arm still.

 “Scott’s right, we can’t just go in with no back up.” Allison says, using the rearview to ink strength into her neck.

 “Lydia’s on her way to get Chris, so there’s backup, and our goal is to get the civilians out, and then try and hold them until backup arrives.” Stiles says.

 “But what if—“ Scott starts.

 “No. This plan is gonna work. It’ll be easy.” Stiles pulled into a parking spot, scrambling for the locks. _And you’re staying on guard._

They tumbled out, runes marking their skin. _I haven’t had an attack in three months._

_Wow, that changes so much._

It was almost too dark to see, despite Allison taking out a witchlight from her pocket. It was too dark to see, but Stiles felt Scott’s shaky grin. Determination rang out clearer than anything, though.

They approached the thick wooden doors of the church silently. There was no sign of struggle of any kind at all, Stiles couldn’t even hear any shuffling or screaming.

“Three, two, one,” Scott whispered, and Danny and Jackson moved simultaneously, bursting through the doors in a sudden flurry. Once inside, they hesitate for just a second, pausing at the silent church.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Jackson asks, turning on Scott, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Shh…” Scott stepped forward, footsteps silent and careful. He suddenly twitched, before his arrow rounded on a creature with eyes too blue to be human.

Suddenly, the space inside the church came to life with loud movement. Civilians screamed and tried to run, before being stopped by demons, all slightly too big, angry, fast. They didn’t have weapons, just claws that emerged from their hands when they gave up their ruses. 

Stiles rushed forward onto an Eidolon guarding a couple. Behind him, he could faintly hear Scott shouting, arrows whooshing, finding their mark every time. “Go, get out of here, run!”  

 _“Gabriel,”_ Stiles whispered, and his blade lit up just in time to catch the demon in the stomach, disintegrating it. He moves on quickly, predatorily to the next shapeshifter. He’s more graceful with this one; in another world, they would have been kind of cute. But it’s claws catch on his blade, and then Scott’s arrow pierces its neck.

To his left, Danny and Jackson work in tandem on a group that seems hell bent on attacking the group of old people still crouched behind the pews. Stiles ran for them, dodging to the other side and taking out the demons before they knew what had happened. One old woman got some dust on her cheek, a horrified look on her face.

An arrow soared past his arm and he looked up at Allison, noticing that she was surrounded.

 _I’m coming in, you get Ali._ He was already moving.

_It’s fine, Danny can get them._

_There are too many civilians still here. I got it._

Allison is strangling one with her bow, and he slashes at it before cutting above her head. She rights her bow, pulling on four arrows at once. At such a close range, they each hit, and the resulting explosion fills the air with demon dust.

Ahead of him, Danny coils his whip to bring the eidolons down while Jackson stabs downward.

 _That’s everyone. Now we just have to hold off a little longer. Back-up’s coming._ Distantly, he feels Scott’s knife leave his hand.

“Five minutes!” Scott yells, taking cover as he pulls the doors shut. Not quite fear, not quite adrenaline makes it’s way through their veins. He can’t keep track of all the arrows anymore, Allison at his back and Scott at the doors.

“Drop!” Scott screams, and he hits the ground in time for Scott’s other knife to fly over his head and nail a demon right in the center of its forehead.

“Thanks, Scott!” Allison says, sounding almost cheerful as she snaps her bow back on a pair of jaws. When it turns to dust, she draws a pair of Chinese ring daggers. He pushes off the ground, landing squarely on top of a demon with yellow eyes and pointed teeth. It snarls as Gabriel sinks into it. He grabs Scott’s knife off the ground, throwing it back. _Incoming._

 _Thanks._ Scott picks it deftly out of the air, immediately turning to cover Danny’s other side.

They’re running out of options. As they sink into their back-to-back position, Stiles starts humming the Avengers theme.

_Shut up! We’re going to die!_

_No way, you love this movie!_

_Not when we’re about to die!_

 But they are luckily able to avoid death by pissed off DC fans, when a portal opens behind them.

        _Told you we’d be fine._

_Shut up and help me, dude._

It’s easier once all the adults get in. Kate on her own is a hurricane, combined with the abilities of Chris and Melissa and Deaton and John, not to mention Mr. Whittemore. He can almost feel the adrenaline in the air, fueling him, giving him an edge.

 Faintly, he hears Chris shout for them to get out, and Scott echoes it, insisting that they’ll guard the entrance. He makes his way towards the door, taking out as many demons as he can before moving to stand with Allison.

Scott moves in to stand before Jackson and Danny, his back to them, guarding as much as hiding. “Ali, use the arrows you have left; only the ones on the edges. No reason we can’t give them an advantage. Stiles, Danny, Jackson, spread out behind the doors, make sure that nothing gets through.” He’s quiet in the chaos, but commanding all the same. A sort of calm flows through him, still on edge yet confident. “This is open and shut, guys. We’ve made it this far. Ali, behind the doors with me.” 

They moved to their positions, steady, strong and practiced. Behind them, Scott and Allison’s arrows flew with distinct precision.

Stile’s hair settled in his eyes. He blew it off as he moved left, inching closer to hover defensively over his parabatai’s shoulder. 

They had practiced this. They had this. Of course they did. It was going to be fine.

Something rushed out, and he lunged for it, but Danny was faster. His stomach knotted as he pushed back into position. Alison pushed her hair behind her shoulders as she reached for her last arrow.

Stiles reached for Scott’s extra quiver, distributing the remaining arrows.

        _Thanks._

 _Yeah, just making sure that we don’t die in a church,_ Stiles thought back.

_We’re not in a church._

_Whatever, I refuse to die anywhere that is not a bed full of chocolate._

_You have fun with that. I’d rather die in battle than old and fat and asleep._

The scene inside was slowly clearing, demons trying to run or falling at the feet of the Shadowhunters. Stiles had never seen so many at the same time. 

Suddenly, one headed straight for them, and Stiles felt his heart drop when Scott reached for an arrow and his fingers fumbled on air. It ran, and it ran fast and hard and past all of them.

 “B-Team!” Scott shouts, and together, they take off.

Stiles had never been so keyed up in his life. His body reacted purely on instinct; he had trained long enough that it was to run towards the monster, not away.

Scott’s heart beat with his, their paces syncing as they sprinted. Scott shot arrow after arrow after it, but it dodged them like it knew they were coming.

Even with the arrows, they were gaining, gaining, gaining—Stiles threw Jackson’s sword, slamming it in the spine. It dissolved as they reached it.

 _Nice shot, dude._ Scott cheered.

“Whatever, man. Two more seconds and you would have had him,” he said, clapping Scott on the shoulder and picking up his sword. Scott scouted for his arrows, knowing they didn’t have many to waste.

Leaves crunch underneath them as they march back to the church. When it came into view, they caught sight of a shape-shifter on top of Jackson. 

Scott quickly shot at it as he rushed into the fray.

Right then, everything in Stiles’ body jerks with a sudden _wrongness._ His stomach twisting, hands clenching, head pounding all with the stressed symptoms of nausea. He fumbles for a second, struck silent until Jackson flails and he heads forward, even knowing what must have just happened. He’s lost Scott.

* * *

Scott stays back to keep an eye out while Stiles rushes ahead. He slows his pace, his heart pounding. _It should be almost over. It’s almost over. Just five more minutes,_ he tells himself, pulling back on his bow.

Suddenly, Scott’s up in the air, and he reaches for his knife as he lands but finds nothing there, feigning. He rolls over just in time to see watch as a red-eyed wolf sinks it’s teeth into his side.

Pain spread through his body like wildfire burning through fields, intensifying at his pulse points, his neck, his wrists. At some point his head hits the ground, and he distantly hears a crack. He doesn’t realize that Stiles is gone until the burn reaches the bond and he has nothing to fight it with.

* * *

In the aftermath, everyone is hurt and recovering and too busy drawing iratzes to notice if Stiles slips away. His hands shake, the formal mark over his heart stings, but he ignores it. He has to find Scott. Find Scott and…

He doesn’t know what comes next.

Stiles felt nothing. Nothing from within him or outside him, nothing from Scott’s end of the bond or his own whereas he should be overloading with aches, pains and feelings – both his and Scott’s! Nothing but this hollowness within where Scott used to be.

Then, he sees it. For a moment, all he feels is relief. Scott hasn’t left him! 

Stiles sprints closer, Scott’s seizing, eyes empty and marks as burnt as his own.

 “Scott! Scott, what happened? Scott!” 

Stiles only notices the bite when he rolls Scott over. He spends so much time in shock he forgot what came next.

* * *

 “I’m a werewolf,” says Scott.

Stiles sighs, “We’ve established that.”

 “I was bitten by a werewolf.”

 “Yep, I think we’ve moved past the shock factor by now, buddy.”

Scott’s eyes are wide and terrified.  “Stiles, I can’t feel you anymore.” 

 “I know. But I’m gonna fix it.”

 “How?” 

Together, they make their way up from the ground. Scott feels every aching limb in his body.

 “Let’s just get home. Everyone’s probably worried.” Stiles slings an arm around Scott’s shoulder, and they start walking.

 “How am I gonna get in? Downworlders can’t get into the institute.” 

 “They can if a Shadowhunter lets them in. I got you, Scotty.” 

 “I can’t, Stiles. They’ll know. They — You know what the Clave is like with Downworlders. Look at Lydia.”

 “Don’t worry about it, Scott.”

 “Stiles —”

 “Do you trust me?” Stiles interrupts him.

 “Of course.” The words come without hesitation, and he feels a phantom ache in his chest. Or maybe that’s just him.

 “Then come on.” 

Scott sniffles into his neck, hanging tight like he can’t go on by himself. Maybe he can’t. 

But Stiles’ steady presence assures him that he won’t have to. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The next (and final) installment will come out tomorrow at the same time (10 AM). I hope you enjoyed it!!


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